


Wave

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abstract, Awkward Romance, Baker Dean, Donuts, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shy Castiel, Shy Dean, Slow Build, frank sinatra (sort of), gluten-free donuts, gratuitous donuts, why is donuts a tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:45:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a baker. His new daily customer really seems to like donuts - and Dean really likes <em>him</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wave

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wave](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/84110) by Antonio Carlos Jobim. 



> There was a song I've been wanting to base a fic around for a while, ever since it woke me up one morning to the thought "Wow, that is Destiel as FUCK" :) (The version I heard was not Frank Sinatra and I liked it much better, but cannot find it and Sinatra's is most famous). And there was a fic prompt that spoke to me at the same time and said "write us together!!" So that is this. This is that. Something. I don't know that this is my usual fare, so I hope you like it.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon when the door chime rang and Dean’s life changed forever.

He’d been running the bakery for about three years, but only running it in the black for less than six months. He was finally having some success. He was reasonably content, if not quite happy.

Then he looked up into infinite blue and for just a moment, he could see eternity, comprehend the universe, feel immortality. He wanted to blink, to look away, but he couldn’t, anymore than he could lasso the moon.

“Hello…Dean,” the dark-haired, deep-voiced man attached to the eyes said, breaking their life-altering gaze to read Dean’s nametag.

The spell was broken and Dean felt its loss keenly. “Uh, heya. What, um, what can I get you?” he asked, training his eyes on and sweeping his hand past the rows of baked goods under the glass case.

“Those,” the man said, pointing at the glazed donuts.

“Sure, how many?” Dean asked, sliding open the door behind them.

“All of them.”

Dean faltered for only a second, since there were at least four dozen donuts, but he didn’t question it. He boxed them up and set them on the counter, stealing surreptitious glances at the handsome customer whenever he could.

“Anything else I can get for you?”

“No, that will suffice,” the man said.

“Ok then, that’ll be $20,” Dean told him with a small smile, hoping to see a credit card and learn the man’s name.

“Here you are then,” the man said, handing over a $20 bill.

For the first time, Dean cursed his decision to build tax into his prices so people wouldn’t need change. With his last possible delay attempt, Dean asked, “Would you like a copy of your receipt?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you,” the man said, locking eyes with Dean once more for a brief moment that seemed to last for days. He took the bag of boxes and turned for the door.

By the time Dean thought to ask his name or say anything, he was already outside on the sidewalk. He turned slightly and saw Dean looking, so he waved and started walking away. Dean heaved a deep sigh and let him go. To console himself, he went to the back and ate a slice of pecan pie that was almost past its prime. It didn’t make him feel better.

* * *

 

The next morning, Dean had only been open for an hour or so before the bell chimed and the man walked in again. His heart sped up and he felt a smile breaking across his face. Maybe it was the addition of coffee to the equation or maybe it was seeing him again when Dean had thought he was gone forever, but Dean felt much happier and less like he’d been punched in the stomach than he had the day before.

Even when he got locked into that blue gaze for a solid 30 seconds before anyone spoke.

“Hey there. Couldn’t stay away for even 24 hours, huh?” he teased with a grin. “What’ll it be this time?”

“The same again, please. Four dozen donuts.”

“Cool. You want to stick with the glazed or you wanna try some other flavors? We’ve got quite a few choices if you’re feeling adventurous,” Dean told him.

“Yes, that sounds good. Two dozen plain glazed and then an assortment for the other two dozen. Whatever you recommend, Dean.”

Once again, the man handed over $20 and that was the end of it. Good mood or no, Dean still couldn’t work up the courage to ask his name. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his heart telling him things that his brain said were impossible. There was no fate. There was no love at first sight.

There were only blue eyes on hot guys who made him think stupid thoughts when he should be concentrating on the bread proofing in the other room. He went back to work and put the handsome customer out of his mind.

* * *

 

The man, who on the third visit finally revealed that his name was Cas, started coming in every morning, except weekends. Dean was only open a couple of hours on Saturdays and Sundays, but they quickly began to feel like the longest days because they had no Cas in them.

Once Dean learned his name, he felt comfortable enough to start striking up little minor conversations. The first time had been about the weather, which was not Dean’s finest hour. The next time, Cas himself had made the overture and they’d ended up in a 20 minute discussion of melting ice caps and the subsequent rising of the oceans.

Dean was able to set a watch by Cas’ arrival. Every single weekday morning at 7:05 exactly, the bell chimed above the door and Cas of the incredibly gravelly voice and incredibly blue eyes walked into the bakery. They shared a moment of eye contact that lasted decades, a few minutes of conversation that were over in seconds, and $20 was exchanged for four dozen assorted donuts. Then a smile and a wave and it was over.

It had become the highlight of Dean’s day by the third morning, but after three weeks of it, Dean had become addicted. One day Cas was sick and didn’t come in and Dean felt off the rest of the day, wondering if Cas had decided to stop coming. Had he gotten donuts somewhere else? Had he decided Dean’s no doubt obvious interest just wasn’t worth dealing with in order to get his morning pastries?

The next day, however, he was back, with explanations and an apology as if he owed Dean anything. As if the sight of his face hadn’t instantly made Dean the happiest he’d been in two days. As if he didn’t know that Dean was falling for him without even knowing his last name or what donut flavor was his favorite.

* * *

 

After two months of visits from Cas, Dean had been noticing a decline in sales on other items and decided it was time to make additions to the menu. Keeping his options fresh was the best way to keep business doing well. To that end, he started making test batches of new products.

When Cas came in on Thursday morning of that week, Dean had just pulled a batch of Snickerdoodles from the oven and brought them out to put in the display case and the sample jar.

“Here, Cas, taste this cookie for me and tell me what you think,” Dean said, holding a Snickerdoodle out with a piece of waxed paper wrapped around it.

“No, um, no thank you,” Cas stammered, seeming nervous.

“What? Why not? It would help me if you could test this, it’s a new product and I need to know if it’s as good as I think it is,” Dean explained, still holding it out.

Cas dropped his eyes and confessed, “I’m allergic to gluten. If I eat it, I will be very ill.”

Dean dropped the hand with the cookie and stared. “You – what? How…Cas you literally buy donuts every single day.”

Cas sighed. “I buy them for the people in my office. I don’t actually eat them.”

“They send the guy who’s allergic to gluten out to get the pastries? That’s…kinda shitty, Cas,” Dean observed.

Cas stared at his feet as he mumbled, “They don’t make me do anything. I’m the boss.”

“Oh. So it’s like a morale thing? That’s cool, I guess.” Dean set the cookie in the jar and started to box up donuts. He shook his head. “100 bucks a week and you don’t even get to eat ‘em. That sucks, man.”

“I don’t mind.” For some reason, Cas still looked nervous, even though he’d already confessed to not eating the donuts.

“Well, I mean, if you had told me…I mean, I could make some gluten-free ones, if you want? No one was really buying that stuff, so I don’t keep any around, but I could make some for you, since you buy every day.” Dean didn’t know why he was nervous about offering, but he was. Mostly, he just wanted to make sure Cas kept coming back.

Cas gave him a long look that did not, for once, feel like infinity, but rather as though Cas was making up his mind about something. He squared his shoulders and informed Dean, “I don’t come here every day for the donuts, Dean.”

“You…what?” Dean asked, making a confused face, not quite daring to hope Cas meant what he thought he meant.

“It is not the donuts that keep me coming back. I don’t spend $100 a week to keep my employees happy, either.”

“Then…why, Cas?” Dean’s voice was barely a sound, as his heart pounded like the sound of waves crashing on the shore in his ears.

“I come here to see you, Dean. To talk to you and see you smile and, on the days when I’m lucky, to brush fingers with you as we exchange food for money. It is…the best part of my day, every day, coming here and spending those few moments with you.”

Dean was fairly certain that his blood was actually on fire. His face was certainly burning up. For a moment, he couldn’t speak or breathe. Then the words all tumbled out together in a rush.

“Me, too, Cas. It’s, I mean, not the donuts, but the-the best part of my day thing. Weekends are the worst and they feel like forever because you don’t come in.”

For the first time, Dean saw Cas smile big enough to show his teeth and gums. It lit up the room. And for the first time, the loneliness that had been a fundamental part of his nature for as long as he could remember fell away.

“Dean, would you come to dinner with me tonight?” Cas asked.

And so it was that later that night they shared their first kiss under the stars. And every day after that, Cas continued to buy donuts, but he didn’t always go to the bakery to get them. Sometimes, Dean delivered them to the office. The first time, the employees all gossiped about the boss’ cute boyfriend, but after that they looked forward to those days, since it put the boss in such a good mood.

And when they’d been dating long enough that they slept in the same bed every night, and dreamed their dreams together, Dean knew the wave was no longer cresting, but had in fact crashed over his head. On that day, he turned to Cas, unafraid, and said “I love you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ♥ you, darlings! Thanks for reading. Say hello, won't you?
> 
> Based on prompt: "dean owns/runs cafe next to ofc building; cas works in ofc building; cas doesn’t eat donuts but buys them everyday for coworkers so he can talk to dean"  
> \+ lyrics for ["Wave"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIrNtAq-t8w):
> 
> So close your eyes, for that's a lovely way to be  
> Aware of things your heart alone was meant to see  
> The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together  
> You can't deny, don't try to fight the rising sea  
> Don't fight the moon, the stars above and don't fight me  
> The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together  
> When I saw you first the time was half past three,  
> When your eyes met mine it was eternity  
> By now we know the wave is on its way to be  
> Just catch that wave don't be afraid of loving me  
> The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together  
> When I saw you first the time was half past three  
> When your eyes met mine it was eternity  
> By now we know the wave is on its way to be  
> Just catch that wave, don't be afraid of loving me  
> The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together


End file.
